Island Reunions
by synodicstar
Summary: It's been ten years since anyone has seen or heard from Kiryu. Majima, fresh from his latest disaster, has decided he's going to join him and see what this whole "living the quiet life" thing is like.
1. The Reunion

The town of Okushiri was small, a cluster of ramshackle buildings scattered along the coastline. Majima Goro wrinkled his nose at the smell of fish as he clambered off the ferry, his hand gripping the wooden railing so he wouldn't lose his step on the slick planks.

He was used to arriving with fanfare, so the lack of welcome on the beach threw him. There was no flair, just some sad looking people going about their lives. This wasn't what he expected to find when he followed his lead all of the way out here to the small island.

His information only carried him as far as the ferry, so he was at a loss. He let the wind buffet against him for a while before setting off.

"Excuse me, granny," Majima stopped an old woman who was tottering down the road, a basket of vegetables on her arm. "This is Okushiri, right?"

The old woman looked him over with shrewd eyes. He had ditched his fancy threads before hopping on the ferry, but he knew he still didn't look like he belonged. Not enough life beat out of him, probably.

"Well?" He prompted. Was the old bat deaf?

The woman hummed to herself for a moment. "Yes," she said once it became apparent that he wouldn't just walk away. She clutched her basket as if he were going to steal it. Like he wanted shriveled up, imported leeks.

"I'm lookin' for a guy," he continued.

"Aren't we all?" The woman cackled. Majima reassessed the look she had given him.

His patience was running low. He took a deep breath and reeled in his anger. "Look, granny, I'm lookin' for a man about my age, sixty or so. Woulda come to the island about ten years ago. Do you know anyone like that?"

The woman started shuffling along the road again. "You must be here for the hot springs," she said, ignoring his question. "That's the only reason someone like you would be here, young man."

Majima laughed in her face, which didn't help his case. He was hardly a young man anymore, and hardly someone who cared about going to an onsen. He guessed to someone as ancient as the woman, everyone was young in comparison. He gave in, counted the woman as a lost cause, and took directions to the nearest bus station. Asking the locals was a waste of time, a map would be better.

He trudged along the rocky beach until he reached the bus. He had no intention to go to the onsen like the woman assumed. Public bathing with obvious yakuza tattoos was no way for him to make friends in a small town. He doubted his quarry would be there either. Instead, he took a map from the stand and headed across the street to a small restaurant.

He was seated at a table and served the local flavor of cuisine. It was good, but he could have done without the suspicious stares. The place was small, with smudged white walls and wobbly, warped ceiling fans overhead. The only two other people there were his waiter and the cook.

Pointedly ignoring them, he spread out the map on the table beside the bowl and peered at it. He willed it to reveal its secrets to him, but the tiny lines and dots just wavered in his vision. Damn, he wished he could still smoke. When had he become so boring, that he cared whether he died now from lung cancer or died eventually from old age?

The young man who had brought him the food returned. Majima assumed he was the owner's son by his resemblance to the cook and the family feel of the establishment.

"What brings you here?" the waiter asked. The boy was dressed in a loose t-shirt and neatly pressed slacks. Definitely someone who still lived at home with mom and pop. "We get a lot of tourists, but you seem different."

"I needed a change of pace," Majima said. "Realized I was treadin' water. This is a-what do they call it? Mid-life crisis." He finished his food and thanked the waiter. He looked back down at the map.

"Little late for a mid-life crisis, gramps," the boy said as he cleared the dishes away.

Majima scowled at him and downed his glass of whiskey in one gulp, slamming it down on the table to prove his point. The kid's surprised look was worth the indigestion he would feel later.

"Sorry," the boy said. "Is there something in particular you're looking for? I've been here all my life, so I might be able to help."

Curse overly helpful local boys. It was just as annoying as the recalcitrant old lady by the ferry. Majima stood from the table and snatched the map up, trying to fold it back before giving up. The fucking things never went back as neatly as they started out. He creased it against the folds before jamming the wadded mess into his bag.

He forced himself to take a deep breath, knowing that his irritable side was coming out. There was a time when he wouldn't have cared, but he had learned with age that sometimes patience was the best approach. Sometimes. "I'm lookin' up an old friend. Know anyone like me in town? Old fart, scary face?"

The boy considered his question for too long. The cook piped up from across the room. "Excuse me, do you mean Mr. Suzuki?" She leaned forward on the counter. "He's a very kind man, but he does match your description."

"Suzuki, hmm…" Majima said. "It's the wrong name, but scary, nice man fits him perfectly. Where is he?"

"He spends most of his free time at the pier."

Majima bowed his thanks. "Appreciate it. Be seein' you, Miss…"

"Higa," the woman replied. "Higa Nanami. This is my son, Ryou."

"I meant no offense earlier, mister," Ryou said after a pointed look from his mother. He moved to hold open the door and bowed. "Welcome to Okushiri. I hope you enjoy your stay."

"I won't be staying long," Majima replied as he went back out into the salty sea air, this time with more purpose.

He strolled along the road, hands in his pockets, until he reached the pier. It really was picturesque, he could admit that much. The sun was just beginning to set above the choppy waves. A lifetime could go by here without realizing it.

A single, gray-haired man was sitting at the end of the pier, fishing pole in hand. He didn't look up at the sound of approaching feet.

Was it him? Majima didn't feel the certainty he thought he would when he dreamed of this moment. Was it just a stranger? He felt uncharacteristically shy, a feeling he loathed.

Before he could gather his courage, the man spoke up.

"Are you here to finally kill me?" Kiryu Kazuma said. Majima walked forward until they were side by side. Kiryu's eyes were focused on the sunset. Lines marked his face, but not as many as there were on Majima's. Apparently, the quiet life had suited him these past ten years. He had more smile lines around his eyes than anything.

"Nah," Majima said. With an anticlimactic thump, he dropped his bag on the pier and sat, letting his feet dangle above the water.

"Then why are you here?" Kiryu didn't seem surprised that Majima had found him. He had probably resigned himself to the eventuality. Nothing kept Majima Goro from what he wanted forever.

"Such a warm welcome, Kiryu," Majima said. "Maybe I'm considerin' retirement, too." He kept his voice casual, as if they were just catching up, but his heart was hammering in his chest. In another life, thirty years ago, he would have pushed the other man off the pier and held him under the water until they were both half-dead. Now he wanted to grab him and never let go.

"Retirement?" Kiryu reeled in his line and cast it again. It landed with a splash yards out, well past the breakers.

"I hate Kamurocho. I hate that it's changed." Majima felt the words he hadn't been able to speak out loud pouring out of him faster than he could think them. "I want things to go back to the way they were-you and me, dukin' it out on the streets, fightin' for those idiots with Tojo Clan."

"Do you really want that? Things were terrible."

It was true. So many of them had died. Majima had even killed some of them himself. The ones who had deserved it, at least. "No, I don't want that," he replied, "And things can't go back to the way they used to be anyway. The world's moved on."

"So what are you doing here, then?" Kiryu's voice was level and he had yet to look away from the water.

So nothing about Kiryu had changed in ten years. Majima felt more comfortable being here with him already. He was so measured, so calm compared to Majima's erratic personality. "Nothin' felt right," he said. "The last time things felt right is when you were there. I thought… maybe… if I found you I would feel right again." He let out a long, dejected sigh. "But this town is awful, borin'! How can you bear it here?"

Kiryu let out the line as something tugged at it. "It's peaceful."

"Peaceful. I guess I can try that." Majima threw his hands in the air.

"I don't remember inviting you." Kiryu frowned. "It was only peaceful because you weren't here."

"I like to crash parties." Majima grinned. "Besides, you're growin' old and complacent. You need someone to keep you on your toes."

Kiryu finally relented and smiled slightly, looking down at him. "You're so impulsive, Majima."

Majima had been holding in his manic energy all day. It was bubbling up until the bursting point inside him. "Don't I know it." He hooked his hand around Kiryu's ankle, sweeping his leg out so he was forced to sit down beside him.

Without hesitation, Majima pressed his lips against Kiryu's, waiting until the other man responded before deepening the kiss. He smelled like the ocean, and underneath that, the familiarity and certainty of things that used to be. Of things that could be.

When they broke apart, Kiryu looked stunned. It wasn't the first time they had kissed, but before it had been in the heat of the moment. Never so unanticipated.

"Expect me to ditch you within a week, old man," Majima said. He grinned widely before taking the fishing pole and casting it, leaving Kiryu wanting more. It was his turn to wait.


	2. The Fight

Kiryu's apartment was near the ferry. Majima laughed when he realized he had walked right by it earlier in the day. The building was in a similar style to the restaurant where he ate lunch-simply built and stained by the elements. Kiryu led the way up a metal staircase to the second floor, where he unlocked a door and waited for Majima to enter ahead of him.

The apartment was only two rooms connected by a hallway that doubled as a food prep area. The bathroom, Majima saw as he poked his head in, was nothing to write home about. Masculine grooming effects were balanced on the side of a porcelain sink. The rest of the apartment doubled as both a living area and sleeping area. A low table was in the middle and a mattress was tucked into the far corner. The single window on the far wall looked out over the ocean.

Kiryu stowed his fishing gear in a closet while Majima took it all in. "Cozy," Majima said. "Diggin' the bachelor pad vibe." He threw his bag into the corner and sat by the table, stretching his arms above his head until his back cracked.

"What really brings you here?" Kiryu asked, folding his arms. "Don't give me any crap about wanting to rekindle an old flame."

"You wish," Majima teased. He let his smile drop. "I needed a break from business. Things aren't goin' too great back home."

"I don't want to hear about it," Kirya said shortly. "I came here to get away from that. I didn't make you leave-I owe you that much-but I don't want to know anything about Tojo business."

Majima frowned. These days, he could only whine to someone outside of the Clan, someone like Kiryu. "Then let's just say I really stepped in it this time and leave it at that."

"Good. Let's leave it." Kiryu turned his back and shrugged out of the jacket he was wearing. Majima watched his button-up shirt stretch across his shoulders appreciatively.

Majima's smile grew sly. "And I may have come here to rekindle an old flame…"

"Majima." Kiryu glanced over his shoulder but moved to hang the jacket up.

"What, can you blame me?" Majima followed him to the closet and leaned his arm on the doorframe. "You seemed to really enjoy that kiss. A bit too much, you know?" He raised his eyebrows pointedly, subtly drawing Kiryu's attention southward.

" _Humph_ ," Kiryu said, turning away and closing the closet door with a snap. "You hungry?"

"I already ate, thanks." Majima ground his teeth together at being spurned. "Are you always goin' to be this damned prickly?"

"I don't know what you want." Kiryu brushed by his outstretched arm. "You're the one who turned up out of nowhere and assaulted me."

Majima rode the rollercoaster of his emotions as they went from sentimental to indignant. Here he was, one of the last people around who gave a shit about Kiryu, and Kiryu was being an ass. He practically chased Kiryu across the room to stop him with a glare.

"Fine. I want to know why you left." Majima said. "You left all of us there thinkin' that you were dead! Me, Saejima, the Chairman, hell, even that kid of yours."

Kiryu's shoulders were tense, but he gave no reply.

"And I know you did it because you thought it was the right thing at the moment, 'cause that's how you are, but of all the fuckin' cowardly-" Majima grabbed his wrist.

"Enough!" Kiryu spun around and planted his feet on the floor. With great control, he removed Majima's hand from his arm. "I had to do it. I didn't have a choice."

Majima leaned in. "There's always a choice. And when there's not, say screw 'em and make your own way!"

"That might work for you because you don't give a shit, but I was dead anyway." There were frustration and sorrow untold in Kiryu's downcast eyes. "I was offered an out that benefited everyone, so damn right I took it. I was tired."

Majima could feel his sluggish, travel-weary blood heating up and reveled in it. "That's bullshit and you know it. The Kiryu Kazuma I knew wouldn't just crawl into a hole to die. Show me you still have that fire."

"What?"

"If you're so right and noble, fight me. Show me this place hasn't made you weak."

Kiryu laughed hollowly. "I haven't done that since I got here. Maybe I have grown weak. But there's more to strength than beating someone."

"Stop teasin' me and fight me already." Majima shuffled his feet to warm up. "Don't wanna talk? Fine. I want to see just how that body of yours moves."

"No." Kiryu shook his head. "That's not even the point. Why are you always trying to get me to punch you?"

"Maybe 'cause I like it. Come on, Kiryu. Prove me wrong." Majima danced around the table, his hands up. "Give me that right hook. Give me a chance to punch you so I can get rid of this damn itch."

"I said no."

Majima flipped the kettle up off the table with his socked toes and sent it spinning at Kiryu's face. Kiryu swatted it away.

"That's more like it," Majima said. He bent to pick up something else to throw but was leveraged by his arm, flipped, and was on his back before he knew it. Kiryu was standing over him. Majima grinned up at him. "Is this how you like me?"

Kiryu's mouth was a thin line. "Are you done now?"

"Far from it." Majima kicked his leg out, making Kiryu stumble. He jumped to his feet and bore down with his elbow. Kiryu only barely got out of the way in time.

They wove together, catching punches, kicks, directing them away. It was more like sparring, a dance, than the all-out brawls of their youth. They were testing each other. Matching each other, not overpowering.

It was perfect.

Majima knew his senses had dulled over the years, but he could still hold his own in a fair fight. So could Kiryu, it turned out. In fact, Kiryu was holding himself back. Majima would die to get a chance to see him let it all out, just one more time.

When Kiryu moved to jab at Majima's stomach, Majima let him. All of the air rushed out of his body and he curled over.

Kiryu stopped. "Majima, are you okay?"

Majima answered by driving his body into Kiryu's, taking him down while wrapping his arms around Kiryu's middle. They fell awkwardly, but Kiryu regained enough sense to twist them away from impacting with the table.

"Oww, I think you twisted my arm too far with that first throw," Majima complained once he caught his breath.

Kiryu didn't answer. Momentarily panicked, Majima looked over but saw he was fine, just staring at the ceiling. "I didn't break you, did I?"

Kiryu inhaled sharply, pulling air through his teeth. "I haven't fought like that in years."

"Miss it?"

"No."

"Miss me?" Majima moved up so he was on his side, his elbow propping him up.

"Maybe." Kiryu gifted him with a genuine laugh then.

"Just how much did you miss me?" Majima rolled over so they were side by side, then pushed himself up so he was hovering over Kiryu with the strength of his arms and will alone.

Kiryu looked up at him and they both went a little cross-eyed. Charming, Majima thought as Kiryu reached up, fisted his hand in the back of Majima's hair, and pulled him in close. His breath was hot against Majima's cheek.

"More than you can imagine," Kiryu admitted finally.

"Then show me already," Majima said impatiently. "Before I lose my fuckin' mind."

Foreplay was never Majima's thing, but Kiryu took things slow, making Majima feel seen in a way that was both uncomfortable and exhilarating. While Majima pressed frantic kisses and bites along Kiryu's neck and chest, Kiryu took his time, tracing his tongue along the curve of Majima's ear before moving downward.

"Hurry up," Majima said, only halfway meaning it. It was delicious, intimate in a way he hadn't experienced in an eternity. A night with the best hooker in all of Japan was nothing like this. Together, they stood and shuffled towards the bed, hands working at each other's clothes. Majima ripped Kiryu's shirt away, then worked his pants off, revealing the rest of him.

He was strong, he was powerful, and Majima would finally make him his. He laughed and pushed Kiryu down onto the bed.

###

Almost completely spent, Majima dozed in bed on top of the sheets. His eyes blinked open a few times, but each time the sight of that faded dragon tattoo under his arm lured him back to sleep. Maybe he could rest here, heal a little.

He reached over Kiryu for his bag and rummaged until he found his cell phone. Kiryu protested sleepily, so Majima stroked small, absent circles on his back until he went back to sleep. He pressed the button to wake up the phone. Dozens of calls, texts, and messages awaited him.

The island could give them both the gift of anonymity, at least for a while. Majima turned off his phone and kicked it under the bed.

Majima whispered into Kiryu's ear to wake him. "Ready for round two?"


	3. The Storm

"Majima, you're too thin," Kiryu said. They were still in bed, even though both of their stomachs were growling.

Majima twitched as Kiryu ran a finger along his ribs. "Don't mother hen me. I'm perfect the way I am." Majima was reminded that Kiryu had once been the caretaker of a group of orphans. He rolled out of bed to avoid further comments. The humoring smile on the other man's lips told Majima the discussion wasn't over. "Shit," he said, and pulled on his pants.

In the bathroom, he cleaned up and ran his hands through his hair. He hadn't taken his eyepatch off during the night, so he closed the door and removed it. God, it got itchy when he left it on too long. He scratched a bit, washed his face off, and replaced it.

What was he doing? Running away from his problems, invading Kiryu's life. He didn't regret the latter, but the former was troubling. He had crossed a point of no return, both with his business and with his relationship with Kiryu, and had no idea what to do next.

"I'm done primpin'," Majima announced as he left the bathroom. "It's all yours."

Kiryu was making the bed fastidiously. His hands paused before pulling out Majima's phone. He handed the phone over. "Is there a reason you were hiding this?"

"Oh, thanks, Kazzy. Musta lost it during the night." Majima dropped it into the pocket of his rumpled pants. He should have hidden the phone better. He longed to chuck it out the window, but instead he clapped his hands together. "I'm starvin'. Breakfast?"

Kiryu raised his eyebrows at the nickname and let the matter go. "Help yourself. I can run to the market for anything you need later."

After a simple breakfast, Kiryu hopped in the shower. Majima considered joining him, but his interests were elsewhere this morning. If he was really going to turn this place into his hiding spot, he needed to get to know the town better. He threw on his jacket and slipped out of the apartment.

###

They never really fell into a pattern-Kiryu had his routine and Majima orbited him, flitting in and out as he pleased. Some days they spent hours at the beach, fishing poles in hand. Other days, Kiryu helped out with odd jobs around town while Majima wandered. It was boring, but it was comfortable in its own way.

Majima thought he would have crawled out of his skin by day seven of island life, but instead he found himself wandering back to the restaurant with a pail of freshly caught fish.

"Welcome, Majima," Nanami called out from the kitchen.

Majima ducked past the "Employees Only" sign and handed her his pail. "Storm's comin' in." He handed her the pail. "Where's your boy?"

"Studying for school. He's hoping to make it into a high school in Sapporo next year and live with his father." She cleaned the fish deftly with a knife.

Majima leaned on the counter and watched as she began to fry it. "And leave you to run this place all by yourself?"

"I'll manage. A boy needs to spend time with his father." She plated the fish a few minutes later. Majima followed her out of the kitchen and took a seat at a table. She had a standing arrangement with Kiryu that she would cook anything he caught, and the arrangement extended naturally to include "Mr. Suzuki's" friend.

The bell over the door jingled as Kiryu entered. He was damp from the hot summer air. Majima caught a glimpse of heavy rain clouds looming over the horizon behind him. He fell into the seat across from Majiima and accepted a drink from Nanami with thanks. He tossed it back and accepted a refill.

Thankfully, Kiryu never bored Majima with the details of day-to-day life. Where he worked, what he did, all that was better off a mystery. Nanami gave Kiryu the rest of the fried fish and left them alone. They finished their meal in comfortable silence.

The door slammed open. "Mr. Suzuki!" Ryou was soaking wet from the downpour.

Kiryu looked up from his plate. "What is it?"

"Mrs. Fujimori was on the beach when the storm hit." Ryou wiped water from his forehead. "Now I can't find her."

Kiryu stood, but Majima remained seated. Over the past few days, he had learned some of the locals' names, and Mrs. Fujimori was the old lady he had met fresh off the ferry. She was so tiny, a great wave could sweep her straight out to sea.

"Coming," Kiryu said. He glanced down at Majima, his eyebrows raised with a question.

"Not my problem," Majima said, shrugging. But helping might get him in Kiryu's good graces, get him past that impenetrable wall that Kiryu kept up against the world. He let out a long, dramatic sigh. "But I'd hate to see the old bat go." He stood to join them.

"Be careful," Nanami called after them as they set out into the storm.

It wasn't a typhoon, but it felt like it. The wind slammed into Majima, sending him stumbling into Kiryu. He pushed off as Kiryu caught him and braced himself. Damn rain made it near impossible to see as it cut into his eyes. Ryou was just a dark blur a few paces ahead of them.

Majima gritted his teeth and dug his heels in. The beach was only a little distance away, but it seemed to take an eternity as they battled against the storm. He almost fell over the uneven surface of the rocks.

Kiryu caught their arms and drew in them close. "Let's split up from here," he yelled over the wind. "Ryou and Majima, you go that way. I'll look in the other direction."

Teamed up with the kid? Majima would have preferred to look on his own, but it was too intense to argue. He set off down the beach, leaving Ryou to follow.

It was impossible to find his own feet in the downpour. He didn't know how he was expected to find another person. Majima stumbled down the shoreline, shielding his eyes with his hand.

"There!" Ryou dashed off, Majima close behind.

She looked like little more than a lump against the rocks. Ryou bent over her while Majima tried to position himself to block the rain from them.

"Shit, is she dead?" Majima asked.

Ryou shook the old woman's shoulder. A moment passed, then she stirred. "No, but I don't think she can move."

"Go get K-Suzuki," Majima said, catching himself. "I'll carry her back to the restaurant."

"Are you sure?"

"Damn it, I know what I'm doin'." Majima knelt down to lift the woman over his shoulder. It wasn't elegant, and it probably hurt her like hell, but they couldn't leave her here. When he straightened up, Ryou was already gone.

"You're more trouble than you're worth," he grumbled to the woman when she groaned in his ear.

Kiryu met them halfway to the restaurant. They soon got caught up in a swirl of drama when they put the woman down on the tile floor. Nanami dialed an ambulance. Majima soon found the drama moving on without him as he leaned, forgotten, in a back corner. He decided it was time to make his exit.

"Goin' for a change of clothes," Majima said to Kiryu as he passed him. "I'm soaked to the bone."

Kiryu caught his wrist after checking that no one was looking. "Thank you," he said. There was heartfelt sincerity in his voice.

Majima flushed, but he covered his embarrassment with a scoff. "Playin' hero with you was fun, but no need for that."

Kiryu squeezed his wrist before letting go. "Still, thank you."

The storm was dying down by then, and Majima found himself wishing the rain could still mask his expression.

###

They didn't hold each other as they fell asleep that night so much as they sprawled across each other, dominating for the larger share of the small bed.

Once he was sure that Kiryu was out cold, Majima took out his phone and switched it on. Rescuing people put his guys back home in his thoughts.

Even more messages greeted him. He picked a voicemail at random and hit play.

"Sir, some Omi Alliance men have staked out one of our developments and won't let us in." His lieutenant's voice blared from the speakers. Majima fumbled with the phone to turn the volume down. "We don't know what to do. Should we try to move back in? I don't-" Majima turned the screen off, but the damage was done.

Kiryu sat up and pushed the blankets away from his shoulders. "The Omi Alliance, hm?" He took the phone from Majima and scrolled through the messages.

"Though you didn't want to know." Majima rested his head in his hands.

"I don't." Kiryu was inscrutable as he scanned the text.

"I don't understand why you don't miss it," Majima said to his palms, his voice coming out muffled. "You were damn good at it."

"Too many people got hurt because of me." Kiryu handed the phone back and Majima let it rest on his leg.

"But you helped a lot of people, too, right?" Majima looked up, letting his hands drop.

"I think there are better ways to help people. Like we did today." Kiryu crossed his legs and leaned back against the wall. He was looking somewhere in the mid-distance, past Majima's head. "The yakuza might have had a place at one time, but it only causes destruction now."

"We provide order, structure."

"Through fear and threats. That's no way to live your life."

Majima didn't agree. He was good at it, and he enjoyed it once. But he did see where Kiryu was coming from. "You're doin' good things now though. Even if it's in this small town."

"But does that fix a lifetime of hurts?"

Majima didn't have an answer for that. He scratched his head and spread out, making sure that his phone was securely stashed in the bottom of his bag.

Kiryu was still and silent beside him until Majima coaxed him back under the sheets with a series of suggestions of just how he could properly thank him for the rescue.

Maybe there were no real answers to Kiryu's question, but maybe he was on the right track.


	4. The Promise

An entire month passed before they found him. A black car pulled up beside Majima as he walked down the road. He was dressed in true island style, with loose slacks and a patterned, wrinkled shirt that he had found in the back of Kiryu's closet. He watched the car out of the corner of his eye but kept going.

"Sir!" The window rolled down and Nishida, one of his oldest associates, stuck his head out. He slowed to keep pace with him. "I found you!"

"Obviously," Majima mumbled. He had known that someone would figure out where he was sooner or later, but he had hoped that he would get a little longer. He crossed to the other side of the road to get away from the car.

It didn't deter Nishida. The man, already a disaster behind the wheel, swerved over.

"You're drivin' on the wrong side of the road, dipshit!" Majima yelled at him.

"I need you to come with me, sir! It's the Omi, they're here!"

"You idiot, they probably followed you here."

"No, uh, I followed them. They found you first." Nishida looked sheepish. When Majima stopped, he jumped from the car and bowed. "Sorry!"

There was a time when Majima would have done something extreme, something violent and uncontrolled to mask his feelings. He could see that Nishida was braced for it. Nishida flinched when he took a deep breath and let it out, long and slow, as a soft whistle between his teeth. He shook his head and shrugged. "I don't got it in me," he wondered aloud. "You're gettin' off easy this time."

"Thank you, sir," Nishida said as he opened the door. "If we leave now, we should be away in time."

Majima paused with his hand on the car door, "Who all's here?"

Nishida listed Omi's three toughest men. "Plus some other guys, a reporter, probably a few guns."

Majima closed the car door. "A whole fuckin' parade, then. I'd be crazy if I missed it." He strode away, leaving Nishida to trail after him.

"Sir!"

"I brought this trouble here. I'm not goin' until I'm sure that the Omi bastards are goin', too. I don't trust them to not make a mess of things."

"At least let me drive you back to town," Nishida said.

"That would be faster." Majima narrowed his eye. "You won't try to kidnap me if I get in?"

"I swear it."

It was a short drive back into town. Majima had him park the car at the ferry so he could proceed on foot.

"Majima!" The lady from the restaurant, Nanami ran up to them. She faltered when she saw Nishida, but moved forward. "Men came in earlier looking for you. Ryou, that foolish son of mine, offered to help them. They've been gone for hours and I'm worried what they're going to do."

"Don't worry, Miss Higa." Majima helped her rise from her bow and patted her on the shoulder. "I'll find your boy and send those men on their way."

"But they looked like-" She stopped when she saw his expression and thought better of her assessment of dangerous men. "Thank you."

Majima looked over his shoulder at Nishida but kept talking to Nanami. "Get yourself back home and close up for the day. I'll bring Ryou once I find 'em." He had already turned away from her as she hurried away. "Find the bastards who chased me here. Send a location and leave the rest to me."

Nishida nodded, jumped back in the car, and drove away.

Majima rubbed his eye. Stupid of him to think he could get away. Stupid, stupid, idiot. There was no escaping it, hadn't he learned that by now? The least he could do was minimize the collateral damage from the danger he trailed behind him to this quiet town. Nanami, Ryou, that old bat from the beach, and Kiryu never asked for this.

Kiryu. Majima's eye flew open. He had brought Omi men right to Kiryu's doorstep. Majima cursed and ran back to the apartment.

"I told you," he heard Ryou say around the corner of the building, "they were here earlier. Majima's been staying here with Mr. Suzuki for a few weeks. I'm sorry, I don't know where else they might be." His voice was tight with fear.

"You led us all over this fucking island, boy." A deep voice this time, not someone from the island. "You're wasting our time. How hard can it be to find two old men? If you don't tell us where they are soon, I'm going to start thinking you're purposefully wasting my time."

Majima lowered into a crouch and looked around the side of the building. A large man-Majima recognized him as an Omi lieutenant-had Ryou's arm twisted behind his back.

Ryou spotted him and pressed his mouth into a thin line. Majima shook his head.

"What's going on?" Kiryu laid a hand on Majima's back.

Majima nearly jumped a foot in the air. "Nothin'."

"Then why are you spying on people?" There was a bemused smile on Kiryu's face but the crease between his eyes was deepening as harsh voices cut through the air.

Majima felt two options spread out before him, neither of them good for him. Lose someone he cared about, or lose his freedom? Reveal Kiryu to the people he was hiding from, or turn himself over to his enemies? Because there was no doubt that Kiryu would give up everything he had built over the past decade to save the boy, that's just who he was. There was no guarantee these young punks would recognize him, but there would be no mistaking him when he opened that damned idealistic mouth.

It was like Kiryu was reading his thoughts. "They're here for you, aren't they?" he said, crouched down next to Majima.

"It's okay," Majima said. He forced a wide smile. "I was gettin' bored here anyway. I don't think retirement is for me."

Kiryu placed a rough hand on Majima's face. "Don't lie to me."

"I don't think I'll ever be able to come back," Majima said, trying honesty out.

"You don't know that."

"You're right, I don't." Majima stared at him, memorizing every detail, before standing. "Maybe once things die down."

Kiryu stood and backed away. "Promise? I don't want to have to go back to Tokyo to track you down."

"Promise," Majima said. Honesty did feel good. He clapped his hands together and gave Kiryu his bravest face. "Well, see ya on the other side, Kazzy."

Before he could talk himself out of it, he rounded the corner. It was typical that Nishida wasn't there, leaving his boss to deal with things on his own.

He waved cheerfully. "Hey boys," he called out to the group of yakuza. "Heard ya were lookin' for me."

###

Four years later, Majima was finally keeping his promise.

He leaned against the railing of the ferry, feeling the salty air run through his hair. He closed his eye against it and smiled slightly as the feeling of nostalgia overcame him. Once they docked, he retraced his steps along the docks and to the town. Nothing had changed-it was as if it were frozen in time.

Still, he wondered why he had ever looked down on it. Peace, simplicity, quiet: they were the antithesis of who he was, but that was why he needed them. They were an anchor to weigh him down in the storm of his life.

He had given word to Kiryu that he was coming this time. He could see him sitting on a bench next to the bus station. When their eyes met, Kiryu stood.

"I'm back," Majima said. He let the other man fold him into his wide arms before snaking his arms around to complete the embrace.

"How long are you staying?"

Majima smiled over Kiryu's shoulder. "I dunno, let's find out."


End file.
